


I'm going to try to fix you

by bloodandwater



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Abuse, Abusive Father, Abusive John Winchester, Angst, M/M, Such angst, Supernatural - Freeform, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Very angst, angsty, care, much angst, wow like heaps of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 03:40:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 8,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandwater/pseuds/bloodandwater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean looked around the pale room he had been places in and clutched nervously at his sleeves. They had put him in pale green hospital gown while he slept and most of his body was covered in bandages, welt’s, bruises and sores. He ached. It was a normal feeling though. Almost comforting. He was so confused, one minute he was… with his dad, the next he was in this room. There was a pale white desk with photo frames on it, although he couldn’t see what they were from the back and two black couches facing each other. The lady had said she’d be back in a minute. Dean just stood in the middle of the room shaking and trying not to cry, crying only made it worse. He knew that for a fact. The beatings were harder when he cried. He was so confused he didn’t know what to do. He heard the door open from behind him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Daddy, no! Don’t! Daddy I’m sorry. I’m sorry” A filthy little boy cowering in the corner of the kitchen screamed hysterically tears falling down his face making tracks in the filth covering his cheeks.

“Daddy I’m sorry,” he sobbed although full well knowing that it would not change the outcome of what was going to happen.

“No,” the boy moaned curling himself up in a ball on the floor and wrapping his thin wiry arms around himself that were littered with purplish bruised and cuts.

The enraged older man approached him, his ugly face contorted with anger. An evil sneer curled his upper lip.

“Shut-up shut-up!” He screamed at the trembling boy and brought his leg back, kicking him roughly in the gut. The boy screamed out in agony sobbing and crying barely able to catch a breath. He could almost hear his rib cracking as the man kicked him again, over and over until each blow started blurring into another. The man bent and picked the boy up by the scruff of his jacked and smiled a cruel smile.

“This will teach you, you little shit!” The man whispered almost tenderly. The boys’ stomach roiled. He was shaking, crying and sobbing clutching his stomach fighting the desperate urge to throw up knowing it would only make it worse. The man reared his clenched fist back and slammed it into the boys’ head making him double over. He was nearly unconscious but not quite. The man threw him to the floor. The boy blinked sleepily and looked around wildly. He was in so much pain. He whimpered and tried to move his limbs.

“Get up!” The man yelled drunk with power. His head was almost spinning with the high amounts of adrenaline running through his veins.

“I said get UP!” he shrieked. His shrill voice was like nails on a chalkboard. So the boy tried once again to co-ordinate his limbs and get up, but he couldn’t. He just lay there sobbing and snivelling on the floor with a hazy brain. He tried to focus on something, anything; the dirty yellowing rug that was pressed into his face and stained with flecks of blood, his blood, but it was just too hard. He heard a loud bang and the sound of wood splintering and then footsteps clattered into the room just before he passed out.

…

“Freeze! Police! Put your hands on your head!” The police officer at the front of the group barked out as his eyes scanned around the tiny room and his stomach summersaulted. The room smelt like excrement and was filthy, the yellowing wallpaper was peeling off the carpet which he once assumed would be white was yellow and brown and worst of all a small unconscious boy (about five he guessed) lay unconscious covered in blood on the floor. He was bruised and bleeding and the officer suspected that he had been beaten within an inch of his life. He had skin that was a yellow-white pale colour, dirty and severely malnourished. His face was stained and rubbed raw from crying. His eyes discovered a half-opened condom covered in bloody fingerprints from the man. His stomach clenched and he nearly lost his lunch then and there.

“Clark, Take him out.” He gestured to the police officer next to him. The man nodded stiffly and proceeded over to the man to handcuff him. The officer then slowly walked over to the boy and crouched down in front of him fearing the worst. Putting two fingers together and laying them against the pulse point in the boys neck, the police officer exhaled the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding as he felt a weak stab of a heartbeat. He bent over and slowly and extremely gently picked up the boy as though he would break and took him out of the disgusting house. _Another one for child services_ he though praying that they could try and fixed the damaged soul that he held oh so carefully in his hands. They could give him a meal, fatten himup a bit that was for sure, but after that there was not much help they could provide. The child had to mainly try and fix himself and for that to happen, the child had to want to be fixed. The officer sighed as his heart broke for the small child in his arms.

“Please let them be able to fix him,” the police officer whispered to himself gazing up into the sky. _It wasn’t fair. He was so young, so vulnerable ._ The officer had never felt so unsure or helpless in his life. It was so much worse than anything he could have imagined. The ambulance pulled up two minutes later in front of the house, its siren screeching and wailing. Two medics rushed out and around the back of the van and pulled out a stretcher. The officer placed the boy down on the stretcher gently and the medics began their ministrations. “Three broken ribs looks like, broken ankle. Patient is unconscious. Severe head trauma possible internal swelling,” they rattled off as they wheeled the stretcher back towards that ambulance. The doors shut and the ambulance took off. The detective put his hands in his face and scrubbed as though he was trying to get rid of those memories. It was as though the image of the boy was tattooed to the back of his eyelids. He still had work to do though. He dropped his hands from his face and made his way back to the house to investigate the scene. He looked up again and prayed that they could fix that poor little broken boy.

…

Dean looked around the pale room he had been places in and clutched nervously at his sleeves. They had put him in pale green hospital gown while he slept and most of his body was covered in bandages, welt’s, bruises and sores. He ached. It was a normal feeling though. Almost comforting. He was so confused, one minute he was… with his dad, the next he was in this room. There was a pale white desk with photo frames on it, although he couldn’t see what they were from the back and two black couches facing each other. The lady had said she’d be back in a minute. Dean just stood in the middle of the room shaking and trying not to cry, crying only made it worse. He knew that for a fact. The beatings were harder when he cried. He was so confused he didn’t know what to do. He heard the door open behind himself.

…

“This one’s a shocker Joe.” Bobby sighed clicking his tongue. Joe smiled wistfully at the old man. There was so much kindness in him. Looking at the old man, you’d expect him to be a cop or a wrestler, but instead he was employed here at child services looking after little boys and girls. He was truly, the personification of a teddy bear. The thought brought a smile to her face

“When are they not bobby?”

“True,” he said, “but this one’s worse than usual.”

Joe didn’t even want to know what was worse than unusual. Usual was pretty bad, and to hear a comment like that from a man like Bobby, it must be pretty darn shocking. Joe sighed again. She couldn’t just keep him waiting. She picked up his case file from Bobby’s desk and began reading it as she walked over to her office where she knew he was probably waiting. She tried to keep a calm and clinical outlook on the case, but what she saw made her stomach roil anyway. It started off like any normal case but gradually got worse.

NAME: Unknown _(refused to talk)_

AGE: Unknown (Estimated about five and a half years old)

SEX: Male

PARENTS: John Winchester and Mary Winchester (deceased)

INJURIES (If any): Three broken ribs, skull fracture, broken ankle, previously broken leg (wasn’t set properly), severe bruising, burns, severe head trauma, malnourishment, broken teeth, broken arm, anal scarring, rape trauma, sphincter rupture.

Joe closed her eyes and opened them again and continued to read.

CASE SUMMARY: Patient refused to talk, unclear whether or not mute. Shows severe signs of trauma. Abused by father both, mentally and physically (rape trauma). Long period of phycology sessions recommended.

That was where Joe came in. She had been a child psychologist working here for around three years now and this lost little boy was to be her new case. She had read reports very much the same and wondered why Bobby had pegged this case as special as she turned over the page and saw the pictures. She understood immediately. Only so much could be explained in the report.  What she saw made her gasp, a tiny little boy lay on the hospital bed, his green eyes were dazed, but frightened and he held on tightly to the railing of the bed. He looked panicked. There were alarming lacerations all over his skin. Which in the places that were not bleeding was a sickly yellow colour. There were burn marks and his stomach caved in and his hips protruded at unnatural angles. She closed the report and took a deep breath. She was at her office now. She put on a kind smile and entered the room.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The little boy stood in the middle of the room shaking and snivelling probably trying to comprehend what was going on. He turned around slowly and her stomach roiled. His face was covered in purplish bruises and yellowing bruises. She turned up her smile another notch. Two fearful green eyes bored into her own and welled with tears, which he was obviously trying to hold back. She crouched down in front of him, and he took a step back.

“Hi sweety,” She said softly “My name is Joanna, but you can call me Joe. I’m here to help you.”

Those green eyes just blinked back at her fearfully and his chin wobbled.

“What’s your name sweetheart?”

The little boy just shook his head, making a tear that was pooling in his eyes run down his sallow cheeks. Her heart broke for this poor little broken boy.

“It’s ok sweety, you can tell me, nobody will be mad with you, in fact, it would help me a lot if you could just tell me your name.” She cooed gently.

“Dean.” The little boy whispered so softly, she almost didn’t catch it.

“Thank you so much Dean, that’s great. What a great name. It suits you” “Hey Dean, would you like to come sit down here?” She asked as she stood up and walked over to the couch patting it gently. Dean lowered his eyes to the floor and walked slowly over to the couch and climbed onto it. He curled his legs up to his chest and tucked his nose between his knees with only those frightened little eyes peering over the top.

“Dean, can you tell me how old you are?”

The little boy shook his head again and buried it deeper into his legs.

“Can you hold out your fingers and tell me how old you are?”

For a little while, Joe feared he would not answer, but then very slowly and very gingerly he raised both of his hands up in front of him with only one finger down. Nine. No he couldn’t be. He was too small, to malnourished, she supposed.

“Dean sweety, are you nine years old?”

Dean nodded minutely.

“Thankyou Dean, tell me, Do you know where you are?”

He shook his head.

“Dean, you’re at child services. Here at child services, we look after lots of other children like you. Sometimes, people’s parents aren’t very nice. And do you know what we do Dean?” Another head shake “We bring those children here, and we put them into new families, with really nice mommies and daddies. How does that sound to you Dean?”

There was no response.

“Tell me Dean, did your daddy ever hurt you?”

The little boy paused by shook his head.

“Are you sure?”

Another pause. Another head shake

“Dean you can tell me, no-one will be mad with you.”

Finally a nod.

“Thank you for being honest with me. Now Dean, you’re going to stay here for a while, before you go to your new family. I will come and check up on you every day that you are here, and I’ll help you settle in to your new family. How does that sound?”

For a while there was no answer. Then, very, very quietly Dean Winchester looked up at Joe, whispered a soft thank you, and burst into tears.

“Hey gorgeous, it’s ok,” She crooned, stroking his back. Little dean Winchester locked his wiry little arms around her neck and cried. He cried and till he had no tears left, he cried and cried until Joe’s t-shirt was wet and covered and snot. He cried because, he could and no-one would punish him for it. “Hey come on, shh.” She said after he finally let go, she stood up, put her hand out, to which Dean latched onto, and walked out of her office. A new start sounded good. Beneath all the other fear an emotions, very, very deep down, Dean was sort of curious to meet the new family. He wondered if he would have any brothers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean meets his new foster parents. And discovers a little bit about himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I just couldn't wait to post it. I know its not supposed to be uploaded until tomorrow. But I was just so excited. I hope you all enjoyed reading it lovelies.

"Hey gorgeous, are you ready to meet your new family?" Joe asked Dean with a smile on her face.

Dean just nodded nervously and stared at the lawn. It was perfectly manicured. It made her skin crawl. It had one of those hedges that were perfectly straight and rectangular and grass that looked like it had been mown within an inch of its life, no pun intended. Some of Deans bruises had faded from an angry purple colour to a sickly yellow and Joe could tell he was obviously embarassed by the. He rubbed at them constantly as if, the more he rubbed them, the faster they would go away, there was no such luck though. Dean breathed through his nose nervously and whimpered very softly. The micawbers didn't have the best reputation, sure, all the kids were well fed and were unabused, but Joe could tell they just didn't care anymore. She looked down and the little boy as he gulped nervously and made a grab for her hand. 

"Hey now," she said crouching down infront of him and straightening his jacket."You are going to have so much fun here. The Micawber's, have two little boys just like you and three little girls. You're going to love it here. Come on," she chided brushing the hair out of hit face with gentle fingers, carefully trying not to add any pressure to his bruises."We have to make sure you look your handsome self, make a good first impression, you know?" 

Dean blushed slightly. 

"Come on then." Joe took his hand and walked over to the front door and knocked. 

The largest looking lady Dean had every seen stepped out onto the front porch. She thick moustache on her upper lip, a monobrow and a fake smile on her face. She looks like a badly disguised man, dean thought swallowing nervously.

"Hi Mrs, Micawber, I am Joe and this is Dean." She said placing a hand on his shoulder lightly and holding out the other hand to Mrs Micawber who promptly ignored it. She then turned her pug-like buggy eyes on him and dragged them from his head to his toes and back up again. Dean had never been scrutinised more in his life. He felt completely exposed.

"He's a scrawny little thin' aint' 'e?"

"Can we talk about this inside please?" Joe gestured to the front door. Mrs, or Mr Micawber sighed, turned around and somehow managed to squeeze her large frame into the house where five children sat on the ground looking as equally frightened as Dean and also a little bit curious. 

"Dean, this is Michael," She gestured too who appeared to be the oldest of the five, with dark coppery hair and a hardened expression on his face, "Lilith" She gestured to a little blonde girl, who smiled back at him with an even faker smile than Mr/Mrs Micawber and whispered in the little girls ear next to her, who Mrs Micawber introduced as being ruby. Ruby giggled and stared at him openly. The next to be introduced was benny, who Dean liked instantly and finally Anna, who stared at him sadly which unerved him a little. 

"What happened to your face?" Ruby asked loudly, to which dean blushed and hid behind Joe's legs.

"Hey now. It's ok, theres no need to be embarassed." She crooned softly to him so that no-one else could hear. "Go on, say hello." She gently combed her fingers through his hair and gave him a little push forward. Dean dropped his gaze to the floor and walked slowly over to the group of children. Once satisfied, Joe followed Mrs Micawber into the spare room.   
  


"Hi!" Lilith said brightly tapping his nose with her finger and giggling. Dean flinched and recoiled violently

"Hey, leave 'im alone." One of the boys, replied, who Dean vaguely remebered as being called Benny. He was slightly scruffier than the rest of the other kids.

"Hey brother. The name's Benny."

Dean, nodded shakily.

"Ah, not much of a talker I see. That's ok, I can work with that," he replied.

"The micawbers are an alright bunch, not the best foster carers I ever had, more innit for the money, and sometimes they make you work real hard, but you know, at least they don't beat us." Benny replied cheerfully.

Deans heart sank, he didn't know why. 

 


	4. Chapter 4

It was the second foster home this month, and the fourteenth foster home this year and it was only July. Dean couldn't blame them though. Who wanted to provide a home to the rebellious mute, and for all they could care deaf teenage boy. He was useless, only good enough for bringing in the checks each week, and eventually not even for that. He didn't talk, didn't listen, didn't do anything. He just sat and watched and escaped to god knows where, caught up in his own little ball of pain, his own little ball of protection. It was easier this way, if he didn't give any of himself away, then they couldn't take it from him. He learnt this the hard way. It wasn’t that one day he decided not to talk, his words just gradually died more and more in his throat, that they didn’t matter. He had no use for them anymore. His words were part of him and he preferred not to give them away anymore, just like he preferred not to give acknowledge those around him. This didn’t mean that he didn’t listen, in fact, he heard more now days than when he participated in conversations. He heard that words of the carers frustrated at him, screaming at him as he continued in life calmly blocking them out, watching from a distance. He heard the screams and cries of the babies and small children as he comforted them wordlessly because there was no-one else to take care of them. He heard the sickly sweet words of some of the foster dads and moms as they whispered into his ear and told him how pretty he was just as well as he heard the drunken slurs of those who couldn’t fathom how they got stuck with such a useless child as him. He heard it all. Most foster carers just assumed he was retarded, a mute, deaf retard. Most carers didn’t last longer than a week. He hadn’t used his voice in years. He wasn’t even sure that he still had it. It didn’t really matter though. At school, people just assumed he was arrogant and antisocial, and because he switched between foster homes quickly enough, he never stayed at one school long enough for children to catch on.

 

Jo came in once to check on him, and after half an hour of failed attempts of conversation and a whole lot of tears, she decided he was not worth her time and left. As did everyone else. Soon everyone left. They got tired of poking stick at him to see what could elicit a verbal response and they got bored of asking why he was the way he was. Dean didn’t really care. He taught himself sign language, although no-one knew that. He didn’t even know why he taught him in fact. It’s not like he would ever use it. His words stayed inside his head. Locked up and safe, where no-one could get them, reach them, twist them from him, hear him beg and scream.

He was 16 soon and would be able to get out of the foster home system and live by himself, provide for himself. He didn't know how he was going to do it, who would want to hire a deaf mute? He was terrified.


	5. Chapter 5

There were only a few months left until Dean was able to leave the shithole of a life that he been placed into. He was free to live on his own, drop out of school and get a job to make his own way in the world. He couldn’t wait. Seven long years of foster homes and people pointing, staring, feeling pity, all soon to come to an end. He lost himself in his own thoughts, a glaze coming over his eyes. This was the first room he had been in at the centre he idly mused.

…

Ellen sighed. Dean Winchester again? This kid must have broken some kind of record. There was no-one left to take him. Actually no-one. There was not one foster home that this kid hadn’t been in that were currently looking for a child. She had called all the best foster homes she knew of asking if anyone could possible fit in another child. Even for a couple of months, he was sixteen soon, old enough to leave the foster system, although kids could stay in the system up to 18 years of age, she highly doubted that Dean would be one of them. As far as she could tell, he couldn’t wait to make his leave. Not that he had actually said so of course, he didn’t really say anything, in fact, she had never heard him speak a word before in all her encounters. He just gazed past her or focused on something else. She knew he was listening though. He may be fooling everyone else in the world, but he wasn’t fooling her. He could act like he wasn’t listening and didn’t care, like he was stupid, but Ellen knew better. She scrubber her hands over her face rashly. Where was she supposed to send him now?

She knocked on the door of Jo’s old office, her soon to be new office to replace that old cubicle. She heard no response, not that she expected one.

“Jesus Christ Dean, again?” She asked with her hands on her hips and her eyebrows raised as she walked into the room and stood in front of him. He stared past her over to his left and out the window, giving no response, although Ellen could see the faint remnants of a smirk on his lips.

“Dean, Dean, Dean. What am I going to do with you muttonhead? There is no place else to put you. No-one can take another child Dean. You’ve been to every foster home in the state. You have no living relatives, and putting you in an out of state home would take too to get all the papers through, especially since it’s only a few months till you’re able to leave.” She scrubbed her hands over her face as she watched Dean shift in his seat again, and pretend not to listen.

She sighed again. “I guess you’ll have to come home with me. I’ll put the papers in this afternoon. Come on, grab your stuff.” That made Dean perk up immediately. He turned his entire focus on her for the first time ever and Ellen nearly had a coronary. He looked her straight in the eyes, just for a second, then dropped them back down to the floor and picked up the Jacket beneath his feet. He gestured towards the door as if to say, _you lead the way then_..


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am soooo god**** sorry I took so long to update, I was doing a little bit of art for it and I got really caught up. Sorry. Expect quicker updates now that I am on holidays and have nothing to do. Once again comments are always appreciated. I hope you enjoy. :)

Ellen's house was not at all what Dean expected. It was airy and light and filled with relics and pictures from different places, and of different people. One person that featured quite prominently was a small brown haired boy that looked to be around for or five years younger than Dean, and although he would never admit it to anyone, he liked him on sight, he had shaggy Brown hair that rested just above his eyes. 

Ellen noticed Dean looking at the picture and walked up behind him, placing one hand lightly on his shoulder, he stiffened minutely, but otherwise gave no reaction, most people wouldn't have noticed. She reached out her hand and fiddled with the image till it was straight. It was one of her favourites. 

"That's Samuel, my son. You can meet him later, he's just off at soccer practise." She said to Dean. 

He gave no response and although it saddened her, it made her all the more determined to get a response out of him again.

"Okay, come on then. Your bedroom is upstairs." Ellen turned and led the way with Dean following behind. They walked up the stairs, which were once again filled with pictures and images of the family.

It was not often that Dean got his own bedroom, and for that he was thankful, sometimes he would share a room with four or five other children and even babies, other times, he wasn't even given a room. Just a patch of floor. This way he could be in peace to work out his next move once he left the system. 

Ellen stepped in front of him and opened the door to the left of the hallway. It was a nice room, guest room, he suspected, with a single bed on the left covered in white linen, and a small closet with mirror doors on the right. It was a nice room, to bad he wouldn't be staying here for long. He idly wondered how long it would take for Ellen to crack and send him off like the luggage that he was. 

"Okay, there aren't many rules here, but if you fail to obey them you will be sorry mister." Ellen watched as Dean moved further into the room and looked warily at his surrounded, although he wasn't looking at her, she could tell he was listeneing. "Number one, dinner is at seven-thirty, you must not be late. There is a clock on the wall for you to reference," She pointed at a simple clock on the left of the room, "We all eat together as a family. Number two, you must complete two chores a week, to the best of your abilities, no exuses, I will add you to the roster on the fridge, and last but not least, there will be no drugs, alchahol or fighting in my house. Is that clear?" Ellen looked around the room and sighed, wondering if this was a good idea. "Okay hun, i'll leave you to it.  We're pretty lax around here, feel free to have a wander or take a walk, just as long as your back before dinner." She turned around and shut the door. 

 _"We eat as a family"_ Huh too bad Dean didn't have any family left. He grabbed his coat, (his only possesion) and walked down the stairs and out the front door.  

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm the song to listen to this chapter is - Hello my old heart by the oh hello's

It was just too good to be true, Dean decided. Things like this just didn't happen in his life. His life was a swirling black pit of shame, hate, and ugly evil things and Ellens' life, well, it was the complete opposite, including a family and all. Dean sighed. He had been walking a while, and should probably get back to the house, if food was offered, he wansn't going to turn it down. The gravel crunched beneath his sneakers. 

...

Ellen watched as Dean lumbered through the front door of the house, exactly one minute to seven. 

"Cutting it close young man," she barked at him from the kitchen hands on her hips and watched as he raised his eyes to hers, a dead look in his eyes, as if to say _what are you going to do about it?_  Then she smiled a rueful smile.

"Come on then, sit down."

...

"Is that him, mum?" Dean heard a child whisper and his attention was immeadiately drawn to the source. 

A thin gangly boy around the age of 14 blushed bright red as Deans eyes came to rest on him. 

"Hi" he said curiously.

Dean gave no response and continued to stare at him. 

Finally breaking eye contact Dean spied the food on the table and decided it was much more interesting. His stomach growled. He hadn't had a proper meal in weeks.

"Dean doesn't like talking very much, honey." He heard vaguely from behind him. He felt a sharp pain in his arm and flinched turning around to face his attacker, realising that it was the little boy. The little boy had poked him. Dean swallowed loudly as he tried to get his racing heart to calm down and his neck to stop sweating. Dean watched as the little boy stuck his tongue between his teeth and shakingly signed out  _Hello my name is Sam._ Dean lifted his hands and signed out a quick  _Hello_ before nervously returning himself to his meal. 

He felt the sharp stab of pain in his arm again and even though he knew what it was, he couldn't stop his response. His heartbeat sped up again and his palms started sweating. He turned to look at the little boy who signed a slow and shaky _Hello Dean._ Dean pushed up from the chair, his appetite long gone, and walked out the front door again. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look guys I'm so sorry, I'm so terrible at updating, and if it weren't for the lovely people commenting and telling me to get a fucking move on and post a chapter, this story wouldn't be as long as it is. Also just a warning for this next chapter, it's really angsty, and Dean does some things that will hopefully make you clutch your heart and cry for the poor boy. So, just a warning there, comments, and kudos are always appreciated. Suggest something you wanna see in the next chapter, fluff?, a certain character? more angst? whatever you want, go nuts. :)

Ellen quickly stood up, she knew this was going to be a recipe for disaster.

"Young man, you come back here right now, or you'll be in big trouble" she commanded, in a last panicked effort to get Dean to stay and sit down again. 

Dean immeadiately halted, with his back turned away from her. She breathed out a small sigh of release, and picked up the teatowl on the table as she moved to go over to him. She watched as he slowly turned around and knelt down on the floor. Sam grabbed her hand from behind and pulled her back to stand in front of the table. 

"I'm sorry mum, I'm really, really sorry." He whispered 

"No sammy, you did nothing wrong she said squeezing his hand. "How about you go upstairs and get ready for bed, ok?"

"Ok." he breathed and bolted upstairs.

Ellen turned around again and watched as Dean slowly started taking the layers of his clothes off and placing them beside himself. 

"Dean, honey, what are you doing?" she asked shakily unable to move towards him, as her legs locked in placed and refused to do what she said.

Dean didn't stop removing clothes untill he was only dressed in ripped faded jeans that hung loose on his thin hips. She moved here eyes up over a caved in stomach and a weak thin chest covered in thin white scars, his arms were sticks that hung limply by his side. His eyes flicked to the teatowl she was twisting in her hands and he slowly bent over untill his forehead was pressed against the floor and his hands were covering his ears. This position exposed his back which was covered in welts and bruised and even more thin white scars. She gasped a small broken sound. His hands started shaking against his ears, and then finally ellen's legs moved. She took two steps forwards and touched his back. He flinched violently. 

"Honey, sweety, get up. Dean come on," She croaked, desperately trying to get him to stand up. 

"Dean come on!" She cried tears flowing down her face freely now.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Dean please!" She sobbed as she she got down on the floor next to him and watched his hands shake against his ears trying to block it all out, and his eyes shut tightly. He thought she was going to beat him.  

"Dean, I'm sorry." She cried brokenly

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably should have added the first paragraph into the previous chapter, but I sorta wanted to leave you hanging. Sorry ;). Alrighty then. I wrote this chapter listening to the slow steady grind of rude boy by rihanna. Hmmm, if this chapter seems a bit different or unexpected then thats probably why. We have smooth sailing ahead. Ok i tried to make this chapter longer, as some of your have been asking for that. Alright then. I hope you enjoy. :)

Dean waited and waited for the blows to fall, but none did, except that of reality as ellen's cracked voice finally filtered into his fuzzy mind, he realised that she wasn't going to hit him. After seeing the tea towel in her hand, he was sure, perhaps she changed her mind. He slowly lifted his hands from his ears and stood up, as Ellen watched him. She hastily rubbed the tears from her eyes and sniffed, rather delicately surprising him. 

"Alright then, put on some clothes, and I'll see you in the morning." Ellen spoke to Dean, cautiously, but firmly. 

She turned around and walked upstairs, before turning around and leaning over the balustrading to talk to him. ** _  
_**

"Oh and Dean, you have school tomorrow, if you get up at 7:30 you should have enough time to eat breakfast and hitch a ride with Sammy ok? It's a local school, I didn't really have time for anything else, sorry."

Dean looked down at the floor as she turned around and continued up the stairs. Damn, he was hoping she would have forgotten about that little factor. School, ugh. He shuddered mentally. While being the new kid, certainly wasn't a new development, it wasn't his favourite thing in the world. With interfering teachers and homework, and other kids. He exhaled through his nose and walked back upstairs. As he walked throught the hallway, he saw a light on in the room opposite his one, as he moved closer and heard murmuring he realised that it must be Sam's room.

He walked quietly over to the side of the door and peered through the crack. Sam was laying down on the bed with Ellen beside him, reading to him quietly. Dean recognised the book as one that his mum used to read to him, before the fire, in fact, she had read to him that night. He could hear the words in his head in Mary's voice, at the same time that Ellen read them. A terrible sadness washed over him and he ached, a single tear leaked down his face, and he gave himself a mental shake. He wouldn't let himself cry over his would be family. He didn't have one any more, and never would, and it was time that he started to accept that fact. Dean continued on to his room and shut the door behind himself, trying to block out the words tumbling out of Ellen's mouth. And as he lay down for sleep, he dreamt that Ellen and Sam were his family, and that for once he was happy. In his dream, they cared about what he said and Ellen and Mary lay on either sides of him reading book after book, before he went to sleep.

__________________________________________________________

He woke up with a smile on his face which quickly faded when he snapped out his dream abrubtly. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face and looked at the clock, he had no idea how to read it, but figured if he stared at it long enough he would be able to figure it out. 

Ten minuted later and still no luck. What was he expecting, if he was too stupid to learn how to read a clock, he was certainly too stupid to teach himself. He only had one pair of clothes, which he had been wearing all week, so there was no need to get dressed, all he did was shrug on his leather jacket and amble down stairs. Maybe ellen would let him have a shower later, he supposed.

"Mornin' sleepy head!" Ellen called out and he reached the bottome floor, "It's a little after eight so you two will have to take the second bus, because you slept in too long Dean." She said with narrowed eyes, but a smile nonetheless. 

Sams' mop of hair was bent down over a bowl that looked to contain some sort of cereal. 

"How long have you been, wearin those clothes, Dean?" Ellen asked with a frown.

Dean shrugged, looking at the floor. 

"Come on then!", Sam piped up grabbing Dean's hand and basically pulling him through the door. 

"We have a bus to catch!" Dean stumbled after Sam and he ran through the door grabbing his bag on the way out. 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally. Say hello, to our angel in residence, Castiel, or well, just stare in Dean's case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gahhh, sorry it's been so long between updates, please I hope you will forgive me. It's an important year for me and I got caught up in a whole bunch of things, including some sad family stuff (so I hope you'll let it slide). The important thing is, that I am working on a posting schedule. YAYAY. So you can expect regular updated. At the moment I just write on the go and post each chapter, but I am going to start writing them in advance so they will be longer and you will have more, anyway. I hope you enjoy. And can I get a hell yeah for CAS!!! Finally . :) Thankyou so much to all of my lovely readers. xx

The busride to the school was uncomfortable to say the most. Students stared at him as he got on the bus, will ill-disguised curiosity and weariness. Sam chatted on about something or rather, while Dean stared out the window not paying attention, wondering how long untill Ellen kicked him out. 

The bus finally stopped at the school, and the students piled out eager to see their friends and class mates, eager to do what happy students do, whatever that was. He came off last trailing behind Sam as he continued chatting about something. 

"Got it?" Sam finished suddenly looking at breaking, breaking him away from his thoughts. Dean frowned, and then looked pointedly over sams head.

"Did you listen to anything I just said, Dean?" Sam asked irritated.

Dean continued looking around scoping out the school. He felt Sam poking him again and he looked down irritated to where Sam was rapidly signing something. 

_S-E-N-I-O-R building left._

Dean watched carefull as sam spelled out words he was yet to learn and told him where to go. Dean nodded when Sam finished looking satisfied with himself.

"Oh wait, one more thing." Sam rumaged around in his pockets till he found what he was looking for. He placed something small and cold in Deans palm.

"For lunch," he explained, then turn and ran. "I'm already late. See you later Dean!" He called as he ran off.

Dean looked at the object in his palm and realised that it was money. He felt a small burn behind his eyes at the kind gesture of the little boy. No-body had ever given something to him before. 

...

Dean shuffled over to the building labelled office just as Sam instructed to pick up his time table and to register. Students watched him and whispered behind their hands, trying to figure out who this new strange boy, wearing to many clothes, with a bowlegged walk was. He pushed past the glass door into a clean cool foyer. A lady in the office with a blond bob looked him over from head to toe and frowned.

"You must be Dean Winchester, yes?" She asked still with a frown. He nodded in response. "Come with me, and i'll get your time-table." She walked down a hallway and into, what Dean assumed was her office.

"Here you are, dear," she handed Dean his schedule and gave him a look that said 'I hope you fit right in, but you probably won't'. 

"CASTIEL!" she shrieked right next to ear, nearly giving Dean a heart attack. She smiled and put a hand on his arm, and Dean had to struggle not to brush it off.

"Castiel will help show you around the school, sweety." she said as she patted his arm and then thankfully removed her hand.

"Hang on let me go get him. My goodness that boy is deaf."

Dean watched as she trotted down the hall to go find the mysterious boy, unsure of what to do next.  


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit I am really bad with this. Wow, but posting schedule, is finally up.WOOOHOOOOO. Which means no more slacking off for me. I had to put it on my tumblr, sorry about that. The URL is mustlovemisha.tumblr.com/postingschedule. Basically every second tuesday. Expect an update. Soooo, no more wondering when the fuck I am going to update. I apologise profusely. Unfortunaly someone I loved very much was diagnosed with cancer and is expected to pass very soon, and I was too upset to write, that's why this has taken so long, but I am back on the horse now, no more stuffing around. I hope ya'll enjoy. they finally meet. ;)

Dean stared at the green and grey flecked carpet on the wooden floor, wondering where the lady had gone and who the hell Castiel was. Castiel... What a weird name. _Who name's their kid that?_ Dean though, certainly not anyone Dean would like to know. He didn't really do parents. Not well anyway. He hear the clicking sound of the lady's footsteps as she returned with a dark haired boy behind her, with the bluest eyes Dean had ever seen, and the nicest smile. Smile? Yes Castiel did appear to be smiling at him. The corners of his eyes all wrinkled up with a sheepish look on his face.

"Sorry, I took so long, I was listening to music," he said with a sly grin on his face.

And for the first time in a very long time, Dean felt the weight of his wordlessness. 

...

He simply waved back, a gentle, almost frail gesture, Castiel noticed before looking at his feet again. The boy was absolutely beautiful, breath taking in fact, but a little on the frail or underfed side. Castiel could work with that. 

Mrs Gibson patted him on the shoulder and gestured to the beautiful boy in front of him.

"Castiel, would you like to show Dean around the school and get him acquainted with how we do things here. I am sure you too will be wonderful friends," she finished exuberantly with a smile. 

_Dean,_ Castiel liked that name. He was pretty sure calling him the beautiful boy would not go down well. Sometimes Castiel hated that he was the teachers pet, but right now he was thanking his lucking stars that he got to show Dean around and spend a little more time with him.

"Here, give me your schedule. What's your first class?" Castiel thrust his hand forward rather ineloquently, making Dean jump. "Sorry," he muttered sheepishly. 

Dean slowly raised his hand and gave the schedule to Castiel's outstretched one placing it oh so gently in his palm.

Castiel looked down at the schedule and was overjoyed to find out that he had his first three classes with Dean. 

"See this first one," he gestured wildly at the paper, "it's Design and Technology with Mr Singer. I have that too! Look i'll take you," he exclaimed and saw the relief palpable on Deans face. _He must really, not like getting lost_  Castiel thought.

...

Someone was going to take him to his first class Dean was relieved. At least he wouldn't stick out to much on his first day if he knew where he was going.

"You don't talk to much do you?" Castiel remarked.

Dean just gave a slight smile in response. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me, right on schedule and everything. YAYAYAYYAYAYAYAAYA. Poor deany, some hard stuff from him this chapter, but also a bit of 'fluff' as well I suppose. I hope you enjoy, your kudos's and comments always make my day. :)

Castiel practically bounced down the halls with Dean trailing behind him. He hadn't had this much energy in him since last years' annual science fair and when they finally arrived at classroom door, he was dismayed. He would now have to share Dean with the rest of the class. Maybe Dean didn't even like him. Maybe that's why he hadn't even spoken to him yet. Had he done something wrong? Castiel's panicked brain was now running at full throttle. _No! Dean just had to be his friend_ , he thought. Castiel mentally chastised himself. He was seventeen, not twelve. Dean could be with anyone he wanted. Except, Castiel wanted him. Jesus, he had only just met the guy, he was being totally weird.  Castiel opened the door to the classroom, then took a step back to let Dean inside.

Dean plodded through the door uncertainly, his eyes scanning the room. The noise in the classroom from the other students dimmed till it was a slight murmur with all eyes on Dean. The girls in the room took one look at the teenagers face and preened in their chairs, breasts forwards, backs straight, even though it seemed to have no effect on Dean whatsoever who walked forward and took a seat at the back of the classroom. Castiel followed suit to take one next to Dean, but was beaten to it by one of the girls in his friend group, Charlie. A bubbly, geeky, nice redhead. 

"Hey!" She whisper yelled at him. He gave slight smile back. 

"I'm Charlie." She tried again, "What's your name?"

But it was all to no avail. Dean simply stared at the floor again. 

"That's Dean," Castiel supplied helpfully.  _At least he wasn't the only one_ Castiel thought  _he wouldn't talk to Charlie either. Maybe he is just really shy?_

_"_ Is he on crack or something?"

"Nah, he just doesn't talk much."

"Maybe he's mute?" Charlie puzzled. "Hey, you know sign-language don't you? Try that!"

Castiel nodded. He did know sign language. He had learnt it once for extra credit for social science. He didn't know much though. 

Castiel tapped Dean on the back and signed to him  _Do you know sign language?_

Dean paused for a second, making Castiel regret his decision, before nodding slightly.

Castiel fist-bumped himself inwardly. Before taking a seat next to Charlie. He was making progress at least. 


	13. chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck life and fuck this, I know I am a terrible person and I never update like i should, but i promise i havent given up, i will finish this bitch. Eventually. I don't know wether I should do a half-assed ending or follow it through. Tell me your opinion in the comments.

Dean's life appeared to be falling into a routine, which was something that had never happened before. Get up, go to school (skip breakfast because he didn't like the way Ellen would watch him,) meet Cas, nod or shake his head, whenever cas said or did something and occasionally sign something when he was sure no-one else could see, go to classes, sit with Cas and his friends at lunch, nod a goodbye to Cas, then go back to Ellen's house which he steadily refused to call home. 

Today was the beginning of exams. Dean hated exams. The teachers had all so far resigned themselves to the fact that he didn't talk and certainly wasn't going to hand in his homework. But everyone seemed to think that he was going to do his exams. Even Cas had told him good luck and to start studying. Dean usually never turned up for these things, and decided that now wasn't the time to change that. He knew that Cas would be waiting for him, a smile on his face, Dean almost felt guilty, then cursed himself. Who was he to feel guilty? Cas was going to leave him eventually when he found out what a fuck-up he was. When he found out what was beneath the jumpers and oversized t-shirts that Ellen had lent him from her ex-husband, who apparently was quite a big man. Dean should just cut all his losses now rather than try and latch onto Cas like a leech. Castiel probably didn't even like him, maybe he just felt sorry for the weird kid in all his classes and was too polite to tell him to go away. Dean clenched his fists together digging his nails into his skin. No, he decided. It better to cut Cas out of his life now before he did something stupid like consider him a friend. Maybe it was too late for even that. Dean couldn't afford to have emotional attachments, they were too dangerous and had never, not even once in his life, had worked out.

Dean ran out the door like he was going to school with a quick nod in Ellen's direction, but instead of waiting at the bus stop like usual he kept walking. Sam had gone to school early, some soccer thing, so there was really no need to feel like he was being watched. He needed to make money if he was going to have anything to stand on once ellen finally kicked him out. Dean kept walking until the road was empty and the streets became seedier. It was too early to pick up any clients, but there was no harm in trying. Dean walked for about an hour until he reached a gas station. It was relatively busy, so Dean figured it would work as a good spot. His brain was already slipping in to work mode, and he hadn't even gotten ready yet. It always suprised Dean that there were some skills you never lost, like riding a bike or prostitution. 


End file.
